


This Is Why I Need You

by alabasterclouds



Series: My Two Gay Dads [2]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Age Play, Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Baby Amy, Bed-Wetting, Comfort, Crying, Crying While Sleeping, Cuddling & Snuggling, Diapers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay dads, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Littles Comforting Each Other, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pacifiers, Papa Holt, Wetting, little jake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 06:58:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18310517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alabasterclouds/pseuds/alabasterclouds
Summary: Amy's kept her Little self a secret from Jake for a long time, but somewhere inside, she knew she couldn't keep it from him forever. But one night when she's asleep on her couch, trying to hide her bed-wetting from her partner, she's surprised to find out that she isn't the one disclosing her secret to Jake first - he's the one disclosing to her, and upon discovering that she's little, too, he isn't happy that she's kept things from him. He storms out, and Amy is left alone.Confused and upset, Amy finds herself sneaking away for a midnight visit to Papa Holt's house, and finds out that she isn't Holt's only little one in the precinct.Warning: As usual, this is an age play fic. Please read the tags and read at your own risk.And thank you to everyone who keeps me going with comments, kudos, and prompts! I really do love writing these little stories, and it's really nice to know that others really love them, too. <3 Come say hi at alabasterclouds.tumblr.com!





	This Is Why I Need You

Brooklyn at night never slept.

Sadly, neither did Amy, especially when she found herself trying to get into a comfortable position on her distinctly uncomfortable couch. She'd refused to sleep at Jake's for the sole reason that his lumpy mattress gave her a hell of a backache that not even her massage therapist could completely erase, but she hadn't foreseen herself sleeping in just as uncomfortable conditions in her own home. 

Amy's eyes filled with tears. She _needed_ her sleep, and when she didn't get it, she knew that the entire precinct suffered the next day. Holt had been gentle with her, but firm: she needed a good night's sleep, and if she didn't get it, she should feel free to take some paid time off and catch up. He'd had to deal with way too many complaints, upsets, and paperwork messes, and he was over it. Amy couldn't blame him. She was over it, too. Especially since this was a situation of her own making.

One would think that one could tell their partner anything - but Amy knew that old adage was far from true. She could never tell Jake about her little tendencies. It wasn't that she felt he'd leave her or anything, but Jake could be pretty judgemental, and she didn't want to hear teasing about it, even if he meant well and was being gentle. But being little was so much a part of who Amy was - down to her pantsuits and her ponytail, her hyper-organization and her obsessive tendencies - and keeping it from him was proving to be a problem, and not only because twice a week she was stuck on the couch, hiding her diapers and bed-wetting from Jake.

She'd wet the bed for as long as she could remember. In fact, her mother liked to say that she didn't think Amy had ever stopped - while most of her brothers had also been bed-wetters, they'd stopped well before puberty. But Amy had struggled with wet sheets and pajama pants long after she hit her teenage years. She'd taken medication that had dried out her mouth and made her itchy and uncomfortable. She'd used alarms, which had blared her awake in the middle of the night and broken the little sleep she was getting at the time, but didn't work - she would wake up wet in the morning, regardless if she got up to pee during the night. She'd seen the doctor and dealt with the embarrassment of admitting she was an adult bed-wetter. And then she'd realized that it was just another part of who she was, and she'd started to wear diapers again. For the first time in years, she'd gotten a good night's rest. When adult pull-ups came out, she felt even better - they protected her discreetly during the day, too, since she was starting to struggle a bit with daytime wetting in the Academy.

Soon, it became very obvious that while she'd solved the issue of being wet at the wrong time, she was going to struggle with relationships and being intimate with partners. Amy usually started the night out with Jake in her own bed, which was protected by a plastic-backed cloth mattress protector (and for the price she paid for that Tempur-pedic, it had better be), but after he fell asleep, which to be fair didn't take very long for him, she was out on the couch. She didn't want him to see her diapers, or worse, experience one of her nighttime accidents if she didn't wear one. He wasn't aware that she wore pull-ups during the day, either, or that she had an accident at least twice a day.

And Amy, tossing and turning on the couch and sucking fiercely on her pacifier, which she also hid from Jake, felt badly about it. She was a bad liar. She didn't like to keep things from the man that she loved. And Jake was so tender and gentle with her. He didn't keep any secrets from her - not that she knew of, anyway. He was refreshingly honest, and he cared so much about her and her comfort. Amy had never had a boyfriend so attuned to her needs, and so protective of her. She only managed to keep this charade going because Jake was such a heavy sleeper and never got up during the night - if he knew she was out here on the couch, he'd immediately demand to know why. If he saw her diaper, which she wore under a long NYPD shirt, he'd probably leave her.

Amy sniffled around her paci and rubbed the satin edge of the throw blanket on the couch on her cheek. Usually, sucking on her paci made her calm and sleepy. Holt found it very sweet - his face usually softened and he'd cluck under his tongue, cuddling her close and letting her melt into his arms. Amy was glad that he would at least be understanding when she came to work sleepy tomorrow and allow her to spend her usual half-hour in his office napping. They had a standing daily meeting in the calendar just before lunch - Holt had finally initiated it when he realized Amy was making excuses to get called into his office in order to cuddle and re-calibrate. He had other meetings with the other officers, too, but as far as Amy knew, she was the only one he saw daily.

Turning over again and trying to ignore the nervous energy running through her whole body, making it impossible to sleep, Amy studied the streetlights coming in through her living room window and tried not to think about Jake, comfortably asleep in her bed. She'd _have_ to tell him eventually. What if they moved in together? Or even got married? She started to shiver and pulled her blanket more tightly around her. He'd have to know then. And she wasn't sure she could give up any part of this . . . or that she even wanted to. 

Amy's chin began to quiver and she turned her face into her pillow, trying to get herself back under control. Now wasn't the time for a panic attack. _Breathe,_ , she told herself. Her lungs started to squeeze closed, and she struggled to get herself back under control. _Breathe!_ The last thing she needed was an asthma attack at 2 AM.

Soon, her lungs relaxed, and Amy felt herself sag in relief, her diaper growing warm and damp as she wet herself. She didn't always wet after heading off a panic attack, but it certainly happened, and had happened out on cases and also at her desk at work. She was grateful for discreet diapers for sure. Closing her eyes and putting her paci back into her mouth, she felt herself finally drifting off, even as she knew she should get up to change. But she felt warm and comfortable, finally, and her whole body relaxed as she fell asleep.

//~// 

Amy's eyes suddenly flew open. She wasn't sure if she'd even fallen asleep, though her brain felt a little fuzzy, and her diaper was cold. Maybe she had slept, then. But a quick glance at the clock proved that it was only 2:30, so she hadn't slept long. What had woken her?

Her sensitive ears picked up footsteps in the bedroom, and the sound of a long sigh, ending in a little whimper. Was Jake _awake?_ Why? He never woke up during the night!

"Shit," Amy muttered. Noiselessly, she slipped off the couch and into her second bathroom off the kitchen, shucking off her wet diaper and grabbing the pair of panties she'd worn while watching TV with Jake earlier that night out of the laundry basket, skimming them on quickly. She didn't have time to thoroughly wash herself, but she rationalized it by knowing she'd take a shower in the morning. Flushing the toilet for posterity and tying the bathroom garbage bag, she placed it beside the kitchen trash and slipped back out to the couch, shoving her paci between the couch cushions. She'd have to run it through the dishwasher later. 

There were more noises from the bedroom, and as Amy sat back down on the couch, the door opened slightly. Jake's tousled head poked out, and Amy could see that he looked upset - in fact, there were tears on his cheeks. Her heart twisted. What had happened?

"Jake?" Amy's voice was soft.

"Ames?" His voice was rusty, and incredulous. "Why are you out here?"

"Why are you awake?" she countered, with a bit of spirit. "It's the middle of the night."

The door opened wider, and Jake leaned against the doorpost, his face now turning skeptical. "Way to avoid the question."

"You avoided my question, too," she said, her voice turning petulant, but then she yawned and she realized now wasn't the time to have one of their usual back-and-forth conversations. "What's going on, babe?"

"Um . . ." Jake looked at the floor. "Uh, well, I just want to say that I know how dedicated you are to keeping your home completely spotless, and I did try to keep to that dedication, but I'm not sure that I did quite the job that you would, and I'm sorry for that, so now that's out of the way, I was just wondering . . . " He trailed off, and Amy felt confused. What was going on here?

"Wondering what?" She leaned forward on the couch, her eyes never leaving his teary dark ones. "I'm so confused right now."

"Uh," His voice cracked, and Amy saw his mouth twist. She'd known him for years, and she knew what that twist meant. He was close to losing it. She got up and walked over to him, opening the door completely. The filtered streetlight fell on his face, which was wet and tear-stained, and the T-shirt and boxers he slept in when he was at her place. But Amy wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light or if she was actually seeing what she was seeing, but it looked like there was a large wet stain on his underwear, too.

"Jake?" Amy tried to keep her voice completely non-judgemental and gentle. "Did you have an accident?" After all, it wasn't as if she didn't know this dance extremely well. She'd shown up at her parents' bedroom door enough times in exactly the same situation.

Jake's voice broke. "I'm really sorry, Ames. It doesn't happen very often, I swear. I'm trying to fix it. Please don't be mad." A few tears slipped down his cheeks, and he rubbed at his eyes in annoyance. Amy's heart melted. Her poor boyfriend!

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. He bent his face into her hair and sniffled, and she rubbed his back. "Hey. It's okay, babe. It's okay. It happens to everyone sometimes. Even to grown adults." She cupped his stubbled chin and kissed him. "Don't worry about it, okay? I'll show you where the extra sheets are."

Jake rubbed the tears off his face and pulled her close to his chest. Amy listened to his heart thudding in his chest and snuggled close to him, feeling his comforting warmth and inhaling his unique Jake smell, a mixture of cheap cologne and sweat and shampoo and now, a sharp tang of urine. She kissed him. "Go get in the shower."

"Okay," he muttered, and Amy got to work stripping the bed as he padded off towards the ensuite in the bedroom, his shoulders slumped. 

Amy's hyper-organized mind kicked in. She had another one of his T-shirts around here somewhere . . . and she thought she also had a few pairs of his boxers, too. As she worked, her mind turned the situation over and over. She would have never pegged Jake as a bed-wetter. He always seemed completely in control of his body - she'd never even seen him throw up after getting drunk. Sure, he got hungover, but he honestly seemed to handle that well, too. But Amy knew that his childhood had been pretty traumatic, and the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

With the bed made up, she sat down, deep in thought, cross-legged on top of the covers. It was super late now - it'd probably be good if they both took the morning off tomorrow and slept in. As she mulled over how to make it not seem suspicious to the rest of the team, Jake came out of the bathroom, dressed in the clean NYPD T-shirt and boxers she'd put out for him. He looked and smelled wonderful, his curly dark hair slicked back from his forehead, and his strong arms still a little damp as he towelled off his hair. 

But his brow was furrowed, and as he came towards Amy, he looked suspicious, almost. Amy started to feel a little bit worried as he sat down beside her on the bed, saying nothing.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah." He swung his legs up and sat facing her, his eyes wary. "Thanks for cleaning up."

"Of course." Amy wasn't sure what to make of what was going on right now. He was acting so strangely, his body language stiff and suspicious. She started to shiver a little in the cool bedroom air, and curled in on herself, cuddling her knees to her chest.

"Ames, question," Jake said, looking away from her. "I was looking for more toilet paper, you know, to replace the empty roll since you yelled at me last time for not doing that, and I . . . did you need to tell me something? At all?"

"What?" Amy felt like her head was spinning. "Tell you what, Jake?"

"Well, first of all, while I was in the shower, it seemed awfully weird to me that you just knew what to do in this kind of situation. You don't like children, you didn't ever babysit, and yet you knew all the right things to say and all the right things to do. And then I went under the sink to find more toilet paper, and I found diapers, Amy. Under your bathroom sink. And I got to thinking . . . why were you out on the couch instead of in bed with me? I woke up alone."

Amy felt her chest constricting. This was _not_ the way she expected this to go. Ever. "I . . . I . . . Jake, I just --"

"I mean, it just seems a bit suspicious. And I mean, I didn't think we kept things from each other, you know? If you have some kind of problem, you can tell me, okay?" He looked really upset. "I can't stand when people lie to me. You know that."

Amy felt her eyes filling with tears, and she started to struggle for breath. "Jake . . . I didn't . . . " She started to gasp, and Jake's face changed momentarily to concern. He immediately reached over her to her bedside table, where he knew she kept her inhaler. _Stupid asthma_ , she thought, taking it from him and taking a long drag. Smoking had used to help with this, oddly enough. At least she'd kept her breathing better under control and not panicked and ended up having to take the head rush from the inhaler. Amy found herself glad that she hadn't wet her pants this time, at least. She wasn't wearing a diaper.

Jake gave her a moment to get herself back under control, and handed her a Kleenex to wipe her eyes. Then he said, "Please just tell me what's going on."

Amy let out a cracked, painful sob. "I wet the bed, too. A lot more than you. Every night. And I didn't want you to know."

"But why, Ames?" Jake just looked confused. He ran a hand through his wet hair, causing the curls to stand up in clumps all over his head. "I wouldn't judge. Hell, I don't have a leg to stand on, here." He finally looked her in the eyes, and his mouth twisted again. "It doesn't bug me, okay? What bugs me is that you're lying about it. And sleeping on the couch? Come on, Amy. I'm your boyfriend. Didn't you think I'd eventually find out?"

"I don't know," Amy murmured miserably. "I was going to cross that bridge when I came to it."

"Well, we're here. At the bridge." He sighed. "Anything else you need to tell me?"

"I wear diapers." She may as well out with it, Amy thought fatalistically. "I don't have very good bladder control. And I . . . like to be little." She knew he'd know what she meant. They'd seen enough crime scenes where people with all kinds of kinks ended up murdered or hurt. She looked down at her hands, clasped around her knees. "I'm sorry." Her voice cracked, and she started to cry.

He looked incredulous. "What? What do you mean by 'little'? Like pacifiers and bottles and stuff? Did you . . . were you going to ever tell me about this?"

Amy couldn't look at him. She just sobbed.

Jake sighed in exasperation and stood up. "I'm sorry, Ames. I can't deal with this right now. I'm gonna go, okay? We'll talk about this later."

"Jake . . . don't go." Amy rubbed a hand across her eyes and hiccupped, feeling a million years old. "We can talk about it now."

"No, I just need some space." He pulled on his jeans and socks. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Jake! Please?" Amy tried to catch his eyes, her words blurred by uncontrollable sobs, and he finally looked at her. "I'm sorry. I know it's weird. I just . . . I don't want you to leave me like this."

"It's not weird, Amy. You lied and you kept things from me. That's what's weird." He came over and kissed her forehead. "Get some rest. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

And then he was gone. Amy slumped down on top of her perfectly made bed and sobbed.

//~//

By rights, Amy shouldn't have been driving right now. It was 4 AM and she was still shaky and upset from her crying jag. But she'd managed to pull it together enough to change into a diaper and soft track pants, put on her shoes, comb her hair and brush her teeth, and wash off her pacifier. And now she was in the car, and on her way to Holt's.

A year ago, she wouldn't have even dared to go to Holt's in the daylight, let alone in the middle of the night. But this wasn't the first time she'd needed him outside of work - and the last time she'd arrived, teary and forlorn, on his doorstep, he'd told her in no uncertain terms that she was to come to him whenever she needed him. Under that tough, emotionless exterior, he had a warm, soft heart. And Amy was glad. She needed someone to take care of her.

Her mind was still reeling from the conversation she and Jake had had earlier. True to his nature, Jake hadn't been judgemental about anything anyone else would have judged - but he was hurt, and Amy didn't know how to make it better. She was so used to trying to smooth everything over, to make everything perfect. She didn't know how to fix it this time.

Parking in front of Holt and Kevin's expensive brownstone in Park Slope, Amy turned off her car and tried to pull herself together. It wouldn't do to be a sobbing mess on his doorstep in the middle of the night. She didn't want their neighbours to be suspicious in any way.

But when she looked up at the wide windows of the home, she was surprised to find that they were ablaze with lights. Huh. She hadn't called, though she had sent a text - she didn't want to wake the whole household up, and especially not alert Cheddar, who tended to set off her allergies. She had pictured Holt cuddling her in the half-light of his study.

Amy knocked on the door, and almost immediately, it was opened by Kevin.

"Hello, Amy," he said pleasantly. "I had a feeling we'd be seeing you here this morning." His mouth twisted sardonically. "This very early morning."

"I'm sorry, Kevin," she whispered, her eyes on the flagstones of the porch. "I know, it's so early."

"It's all right, dear," he said, and opened the door wider. "Don't worry a bit about it. It's a bit nippy out there. Come on in."

Amy followed Kevin's silk robe-clad form inside and through the foyer, into Holt's study. "Raymond, you've got another little visitor," he said, his voice holding a hint of amusement.

"Not a surprise," came Holt's calm, deep voice. "Come on in, Amy."

Another visitor? Amy came in and then stopped dead. Beside Holt on the couch, curled up against him, his thumb firmly plugged into his mouth, was Jake. He raised his head, startled, and met her eyes.

"Oh. I . . . I didn't think anyone else would be here," stammered Amy, and clutched her paci hard in her left hand. "I can go. I don't have to interrupt. I can just leave."

She suddenly felt Kevin's warm hands on her shoulders. "How about we all just relax for a moment? Amy, can I bring you anything? A warm drink, maybe?"

"How about some warm milk, Kevin? I think Jake would like some, too." Holt, dressed in a pair of impeccably ironed English pajamas, rubbed Jake's shoulders comfortingly and then reached out his other arm for Amy. "Come here, princess."

But Amy just looked at the floor, and the design of Holt's Persian rug blurred as her eyes filled with tears. "I didn't know you were . . . with Jake. I'm sorry."

"There's room for you, too." Holt patted the couch cushion beside him. "I think there are a few things we need to iron out. Not that I expected to do this at 4:30 in the morning."

Jake scoffed a little. "We're cops. We're used to early mornings." 

"Not on top of late nights," countered Holt, but his voice held a note of amusement. "Amy, I won't ask again. Come and sit down. Don't stand there shivering on the doorstep."

Obediently, Amy came and sat beside him. But as she did so, she started to cry, and then, to her surprise, Jake started to cry, too.

"Oh, dear," Holt rumbled, and pulled both Jake and Amy into his chest comfortingly. "I think it's a bit late for everyone. And I think it's been a rather upsetting night, hasn't it?"

"She lied to me," Jake whimpered. "I don't like lying."

"I didn't know he was little, too!" Amy protested. "I didn't want to tell him. I didn't know what he'd say."

"I wouldn't have said anything!" Jake rubbed a hand across his eyes. "But you never even gave me a chance. You just assumed I'd be a dick about it."

"Language," reproved Holt. "You can be angry at her, Jake, but there's no need for that."

"Sorry," muttered Jake. He turned into Holt, pressing his face into the older man's muscular chest. "I just thought she trusted me more."

"I didn't mean to lie." Amy felt her chest starting to constrict again, and Holt started to rub her back comfortingly as she sniffled against his chest. 

"Slow down. Take deep breaths. No one is going to hurt you. And we're going to work this out." Holt's calm voice relaxed Amy, and she saw Jake relax, too. He began to play with one of Holt's large hands, and Amy, despite herself, smiled a bit. It was so Jake, needing to distract himself in order to focus. 

At her smile, Jake caught her eye, and then a hint of a smile crossed his face, too.

"I do trust you," Amy continued, now that her breathing was back under control. "I just didn't know how to tell you. It's not like it's a normal problem couples deal with."

"All couples have some sort of weird problem," interjected Holt. "This is one of the more benign ones I've heard about, to be fair."

"Two partners being little is one of the less weird ones?" Jake's voice was incredulous. "Wow. I don't want to know what kind of circles you run in."

"Suffice it to say, Peralta, I've seen some things," Holt said, his voice sardonic, and then he squeezed both little ones comfortingly. "Can you two get through this?"

Jake finally looked at Amy, and then he took her hand. "I guess so. I mean, she's still pretty cute."

"You're pretty cute, too," said Amy, and smiled back at him. He made a silly face at her, and she giggled a little. Just then, Kevin walked back into the room, carrying a tray with two tall glasses of warm milk on it.

"Here we are," he said, and handed the milk to Jake and Amy. "And since I'm hearing some merriment in here, I take it that we've all worked things out?"

"They'll need to talk among themselves, but I think it's okay for tonight," said Holt, and gave Kevin a fond look. "Thank you for being understanding."

"Well, Raymond, I've learned over the years that sometimes you're needed in the middle of the night, and I'll just have to deal with it," said Kevin, and smiled back at them. "At least in this case, it's something easily solvable."

Amy sipped at her milk, feeling her body relax. She curled up in Holt's right arm, and Jake curled up in his left arm, his dark eyes closing as he sipped at his own glass. The night was catching up with them both.

"Kevin, can you do one more thing for me?" Holt looked at his partner questioningly. "Can you send an email from my computer to the team letting them know that due to a difficult case, Santiago, Peralta, and I won't be coming into work until the afternoon?"

Kevin nodded. "Of course."

Amy was almost asleep when Holt gently shook her awake. "Come on, little ones. I'd rather you finish out the night in the guest room and get some good sleep. Jake, we need to put on your diaper. And Amy, I think you're going to need a fresh one."

Jake looked a bit surprised and embarrassed, and Amy hid a smile. "So it does happen more than you said."

"And it happens to you even when you're awake."

"I guess there's more I need to tell you," said Amy, and Jake smiled at her and took her hand as they trudged up the stairs behind Holt.

"It's okay. Just make sure you tell me."

Amy smiled at him. "I promise I will."


End file.
